“Thank you, yes.”
Carmen’s assistant brought back a similar, though smaller steak and laid it on the grill as well. She then spoke a quick string of Spanish words. Maeve knew enough of the language to predict the assistant would grab lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers next, which he did. A salad sounded wonderful, too.
“Ranch, please.”
Carmen nodded. She was a vampire that had been dumped in the Graveyard almost a year ago by her drug-running boss. He’d been high on blood flame and mistook her for someone else. He’d attacked her viciously with a knife. No one had been able to talk him down and he’d cut and beat her to the point of death, not unlike Braden’s condition.
It was heard he’d felt remorse and had hunted for Carmen’s remains. When he couldn’t find them, he’d put out a sizable reward for her. Understandably, Carmen had no desire to return to him. Maeve had agreed to a name change to keep her identity secure and she’d been cooking for the Landing ever since. As far as Maeve was concerned, she could stay with her forever.
“We’re glad Officer Braden survived. He’s a good man. Everyone is talking about him. Do you know he got rid of one of the major drug-dealers in Savage? It was about five years ago after he became alpha of one of the twelve main packs. His efforts brought the crime rate down in that territory, at least for a while. The serum brings out the worst in a lot of people.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.
Maeve didn’t want to hear more good things about Braden. She was already feeling an increased attraction to the man. She felt downright itchy inside her skin. But how could any kind of involvement with a wolf end well?
She’d spoken with him at least twice a week for the past year. He’d make appointments to meet her at her candle shop ostensibly to make further inquiries into his investigation. After a while, she made sandwiches for him, asked him about his work as a Border Patrol officer, and listened to his stories of Savage during his early days. Neither talked much about life before thealterworld.
She’d come to think of him as a friend, and oddly enough, wolf though he was, she trusted him.
When Carmen loaded a large tray with both steaks, some grilled mushrooms and onions and two bowls full of salad, Maeve carried it back to her apartment.
The tray was heavy, but she’d gained some muscle carting all kinds of people out of the Graveyard. She even worked out in the Landing gym every other night.
Before she even reached the bedroom, Braden called out, “Damn, that smells good.” His wolf’s nose again.
She crossed the threshold and saw he was now sitting up. He looked better, too. He had some color in his face. Her infuser, and its scrap of emerald flame, appeared to be working.
She smiled. “I can sense you’d leap into the air just to get to this if you could.”
He dipped his chin in quick jerks. Her witchiness could tell he was almost panicky in his need for a solid chunk of meat.
She made quick work of setting up the hospital swing-arm table then set his food in front of him. “Don’t be polite.”
He grunted as he started to cut up his steak. He seemed impatient so she gave him a nudge. “Pick it up with your hands.”
He stared at her hard for a moment. His human politeness vied with his wolf need.
She lifted both hands. “Hey, don’t hold back on my account I want you well, not polite right now. Got it?” She couldn’t help but smile.
He shrugged. “Aw, to hell with it.” He grabbed the steak-bone at one end and a lot of rare meat at the other.
He kept groaning as he ate and it wasn’t long before his color returned to normal. She’d been around a few shifters, so she wasn’t surprised by the grunts and huffs, as though the wolf in him was trying to create a whole new string of vocalizations through his human voice.
She sat nearby and worked on her own meal, but it was difficult to keep from staring at him. His chest was bare and this new drive she experienced had amplified her attraction to him about ten-fold.
But Maeve had no interest in engaging with any man, gorgeous or not, wolf or not. When her husband had died at Veyda’s orders, she’d felt something deep in her heart break in two. She’d already said good-bye to him and to their old, beautiful, human life together. But his death had made heralterlife almost unbearable. Only her nightly jaunts into the Graveyard to help others had kept her sane.
The thought of getting involved with Braden, made her cringe. Her heart was just too vulnerable for the present. She took another bite of her steak and looked at her plate.
Of course, involvement was a completely relative term.
She stole a glance beneath her lashes at his bare chest and broad shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the way his arm flexed and unflexed as he tore bites from the steak. Certain parts of her warmed up.
She’d never been with a man like Braden. He had so much bulked-up muscle, he looked like he could lift a car with one hand. He had no hair on his chest which gave her a clear view of his thick pecs and sculpted abs.
She wondered suddenly what his wolf looked like.
Instinctively, her hand went to the nape of her neck. She drew a deep breath and stroked her skin in the exact spots she suspected his fangs would land to hold her in place.
Her nostrils flared. Well above the aroma of the ribeye, she caught a sudden flow of Madagascar vanilla. It hit her so hard she gasped. She knew she’d been caught staring again.
